The Orb And The Spectre (Book 2) (20 page)

   Fectur had stiffened imperceptibly.
"Our doom? How is this?"

   "It is as I have told Leth." Venger grinned. "Or did he not inform you?"

   Fectur seethed. There was so much here, he was convinced. But he could not reveal his ignorance. Venger would toy with him. But what was this One True God?

   "Leth has told me," he said. "I simply seek clarification.
And that which you have not yet given up. I have already said, Venger, the King is persuaded that you have more to give. He grew impatient, hence you find yourself here. But I am drawn to wonder whether the King treads an optimal path just now. Hence I offer you a lifeline."

   He watched for a reaction, no matter how minute, and saw it, the tiniest glimmer of interest in Venger's dark eyes.

   "You do not know whether to believe me. That is understandable. But I assure you, if I were following King Leth's orders you would be flayed meat by now."

   Venger rattled the chains that bound him to the wall. "Unclasp me, Fectur."

   Fectur looked again, deep into those distant eyes. Then he stepped to the wall and stretched up to release the bolt on one of Venger's manacles. He watched as Venger unclasped the others and rubbed and flexed his sore wrists and ankles.

   "I will leave you now, Venger. We will speak again later."

   Venger's face betrayed his surprise, but Fectur took himself from the cell. Let Venger dwell on that! And in the meantime, before he could confront Venger again, he had to learn more, for he was in danger of revealing his ignorance. Unnacceptable! He would not permit Grey Venger that pleasure.

   Fectur perceived two courses open to him. First, he could approach the King and persuade, cajole, threaten, demand until he learned precisely what had passed
between him and Venger. And if somehow he still failed to gain what he wanted he would turn to Pader Luminis. Neither Leth nor Pader were likely to tell him all, but interviewed separately they would provide pieces of a picture that he could fit together. Certainly they would furnish him with far more than he presently had. Then, more sure of where he stood, he could return to Grey Venger.

   At the end of the dim corridor that led from the dungeons a portal opened and a bulky figure strode hurriedly towards him. As he drew closer Fectur recognized an officer from his Security Cadre. The man came with unnatural haste, his shoulders high,
then slowed. His face as it came into Fectur's light was drawn and troubled. He spoke as though gagging on his words. "My lord, it is the King. He has vanished."

   Fectur almost shuddered. He fixed the officer with a deadly stare. "
What?
"

  
"The King, my lord. He cannot be found. Nor the Prince and Princess."

   "They are under supervision in the royal apartments."

   The officer swallowed. "I know, lord. I am in charge of the detail. They have not left, yet neither are they there any longer. I have no explanation. The entrances were guarded and they did not leave. But my men have searched everywhere."

   "You have let them escape?"

   "No, lord. That is what I am trying to say. They have not left, yet they are not there."

  
Am I betrayed from within?
The thought made Fectur dizzy. Who would dare? He could not conceive of it. But a red rage swelled within him and he could barely keep himself from striking the man dead on the spot.

   He threw himself towards the exit. "Take me there!"

*

   In the King's apartment Fectur bellowed orders. "Cordon off the apartments! Isolate the wing! Search every chamber, every cupboard,
every nook! Search again! Keep searching till they are found!"

   He swung upon the officer who had brought him the news. "Bring me the wretches who guarded the entrances!"

   He was told that Leth had last been seen entering his study with his children. When nothing had been heard for some time the guards had grown suspicious. Eventually they had knocked upon the door, received no answer, and informed their commander, who had entered the chamber to find it empty.

   Fectur scanned the study. There was only one window, a double-slit, too narrow for even a child to slip through. "There is a secret passage here. Find it."

   Frightened soldiers shifted furniture, lifted rugs, peered behind arrases, pressed or hammered or prised wall-blocks and flagstones. A secret storage compartment was discovered in one wall, in which were manuscripts, valuables and other personal items, but no exit was found.

   Was there magic involved? Fectur stood beside Leth's desk, his fingertips unconsciously settling upon the lid of a jewelled blue casket resting there. Had Leth prepared for this moment all along?

   There was nothing visible to indicate magic. No apparatus, nothing. Outside of Enchantment Fectur knew of no means by which a man and two children might be magically transported between locations. But there was magic here. Fectur sensed it almost subliminally, a susurration along the fine hairs of his skin, a psychic breath ruffling the edges of his consciousness. The shadows in the corner of the chamber, they seemed unusually tinged with blue.

  
How had Leth done it?

   He seized a chair and hurled it across the chamber. "Find them! Find them or you will all fly from the battlements!"

   Outside six soldiers of the Security Cadre waited, pale and nervous. It was they who had guarded the two main entrances to the royal apartments. They swore before Fectur that the King and his two children had made no attempts to leave, nor had anyone entered. Fectur stared into each of their eyes and knew that they spoke the truth. They were terrified. They knew what they faced. The crime was too blatant. No person aiding the King in his escape would have stayed around to face the Spectre's wrath.

   The childrens' nanny, Cascane, was brought. She was incoherent in her terror, but it was plain that she too knew nothing. Fectur stormed back into the study and stood impotent with rage beside the desk where the blue casket rested. His soldiers cowered before him. They had searched and searched,
then they had searched again. The apartment had been turned upside down.

  
Nothing.

   How? How had he done this?

   And where had he gone?

TEN

I

   Issul swept past the Lord High Invigilate's astonished chief secretary and burst into Fectur's office without pausing to announce her presence. Fectur sat at his desk, and at the sight of him her pent-up fury was checked, just for an instant.

   He had his eyes tightly closed and was hunched forward in his seat, fists bunched upon the surface of his desk, grey hair in disarray, long spikes and strands radiating wildly from the sides of his head. His face was set in a taut, rancorous grimace; his brow and fleshy nose were blistered with tiny gleaming beads of sweat, his skin a mass of vivid red blotches. Momentarily she thought he had been struck by disease.

   Fectur's eyes flashed open as the young Queen entered. He grunted, coerced a flicker of a smile onto his grim visage and slowly heaved himself erect, apparently with some effort. "My Queen."

   "Fectur, what have you done?" Her anger returned, tempered just a little by curiosity. This was Fectur, the master of iron self-control. She had anticipated his discomfiture at her return, but to see him thus, all but a-tremble, openly the victim of his emotions, took her unawares. On a very few occasions in the past she had seen the red welts appear when his anger or frustration grew great, but this was something of a different order. He was a man in the grip of powerful demons.

   She almost felt sympathy. Almost. But as, in the early evening, she had passed through the city gate and up the magnificent azalea and conifer-lined Sovereign's Boulevard to enter the Palace of Orbia, she had gained her first inklings of recent events here. She had sensed that something was wrong the moment she had arrived at the city gate. It was revealed in the faces of the soldiers when she announced herself, their initial confusion when she had demanded a guard of honour to escort her to the Palace. It was unspoken, sombre, furtive, and it permeated the very air of Enchantment's Reach. Something. Intangible, indefinable. A gravity, a shadowy expectancy, a brooding imminence. Something.

   In disquieted tones the captain of her guard had told her of the King's sad decline as they rode, of the Lord High Invigilate's ascent to Regent. Issul's hackles rose further with every fresh word he spoke. And through her rage and disbelief had come a fear. How powerful had Fectur become? Did he have the support of the government and army? Somehow he had contrived Leth's downfall in order to seize control for
himself, that much was obvious. But legally, now, with her return, he must relinquish sovereignty to her. Would he do so? Did he need to? Or was she about to confront her own demise?

   Her stomach had knotted. Was everything lost? Who could she rely on? The fabulous towers stretching above her now seemed ominous and chill. But she would not shrink. For her family and the realm she would face Fectur and learn the worst.

   "My lady, welcome. Welcome back," said Fectur now, through his teeth. Fists still upon the desktop he gave a stiff bow.

   "What have you done, Fectur? Where is the King? Where are my children?" She had run straight to the royal apartments, seeking Leth whom she had been informed was under medical supervision, and Galry and Jace. She found none of them, and her questions had brought only garbled replies from her staff and Fectur's guards, who were disconcertingly in evidence. She was breathless now, frantic with concern.

   "What have I done? My lady, have you not been told? It has been my sad duty to assume the office of rule whilst the King recuperates from an illness that has gripped his mind. Might I say, my lady, how delighted I am to see you returned to us safe and well. We have been so concerned. Our troops have searched everywhere and we had, alas, all but given up. I look forward to hearing of your adventures."

   Fectur could barely speak. It was evening, the dusk closing in upon the city-castle. Only two hours ago he had been in Leth's study, dealing with the impossible fact of Leth's disappearance. Distracted, fulminating, disbelieving, he had returned to his office. He brooded darkly, questioning over and over again how Leth could have achieved this, wondering what it would mean for him, Fectur, now. He would rise above it, somehow. He would not be swayed from his course. But it was a debilitating blow, complicating his plans beyond calculation.

   And then, just minutes ago, a quaking lackey had brought the news that the Queen was approaching the Palace. Impossible! Unthinkable! Fate, Fortune, which earlier had seemed to smile so warmly upon him, had now conspired to bring him down. He had barely moved since the lackey retired. He was locked into himself, a welter of conflicting impulses and emotions. He could scarcely order his thoughts into a coherent pattern.

   Issul stared at him. His mouth twitched, his eyes would not focus on her face. He was despicable to her eyes, but her fear and apprehension had not yet receded.

   "Where is the King, Fectur? Where are my children?"

   "My lady, I am at a loss to explain."

   "A loss? You?" Now another species of fear yawned in the pit of her stomach. "Fectur, if you have harmed them. . . ."

   "I have not. The King was in protective custody. He had requested that your children be brought to him, with which I gladly complied. Subsequently they - all three - vanished."

   "Vanished?" There was a rushing sound in her ears; her stomach dropping, her knees threatening to buckle.

   "Every effort is being made to locate them, but somehow the King has achieved the impossible. He has escaped from a chamber from which escape was not possible. Not by ordinary means. My lady, if you know of any secret way-"

   She shook her head. What was he saying? Were they alive, or had he secretly had them murdered? She struggled to remain standing, heard her breath coming in short, deafening gasps.

   "Or of any magical practice the King was involved in?"

   "No, nothing." Her thoughts flew back months, to the seeping blue lucence beneath Leth's study door, and the bluish aura around him the night before she had ridden for Lastmeadow. Her own enquiries had revealed nothing, yet, was it possible that Leth had foreseen what was coming, had found a way out?
Oh, Leth, my babies, my darlings, be safe. Be safe!

   She blinked back tears. Could Fectur be lying? Yet he was thoroughly thrown by something. It had to be a combination of - to his mind - disasters. Not just her return. Or had she returned just after he had committed the unthinkable? "Fectur, their welfare is your responsibility." Her voice was feeble, shaking.

   "I am wholly aware of that. I am sparing no effort." Now his cold carp eyes met hers. "My lady, I do not wish to alarm you, but I am afraid. . . the King, he was distraught. . . he asked for the children. . . I saw no harm. But I fear he may have. . . in the state he was in--"

  
"
Never!
" She screamed, her fingers curling, outraged. "You are responsible, Fectur. You! Only you!"

   "I have acted at all times in the best interests of the realm."

   She inhaled deeply, steeling herself, forcing back the terrors that rose to rob her of all reason. "There is much to discuss, Lord Fectur. I want a full report, within the hour. I want to know precisely how my husband came to be overthrown--"

  
"My lady!"

   "I will have a full report, Fectur.
Every detail, every ruse that was employed to undermine his authority."

   "You have it wrong. It was not like that."

   "Additionally you will convene an urgent Assembly tonight in the Hall of Wise Counsel. All ministers, nobles, knights, generals, faction heads and officiers will attend. Before them you will declare the termination of your office as Regent and your resumption of your former station. You will announce my formal investment as Sovereign in temporary stead of my husband. Is this wholly understood?"

   Fectur slowly straightened. She held his gaze, the silence building like a scream between them. Finally he gave a single, curt nod.
"Quite, my lady."

   I have him!
Issul almost shuddered with relief. All could have been lost in that moment, but she knew now that he lacked the support to openly defy her. How he had succeeded in removing Leth she could not imagine, but quite plainly he had achieved it without overtly threatening the integrity of the Crown. With her return he could but yield - to fight another day.

   "Moreover, I wish to know all that has been learned of
Karai movements and anything else relevant to our situation."

  
"Of course."

   "And you will explain to me, here and now, how it was you came to defy me by sending your own men to Lastmeadow to interrogate the peasant-woman Ohirbe and her family."

   "Defy you? My lady Issul, there was no defiance, I assure you. You requested an escort for the woman-"

   "I expressly forbade you to interrogate her!"

   "I feared for your safety, my lady, and as subsequent events have demonstrated, my fears were far from groundless. It was wholly in order that I should take whatever precautions I considered necessary to clear your way."

  
"To the extent of sending Commander Gordallith, one of your most senior intelligence officers? To the extent of having him strike terror into the hearts of simple folk with warnings of what might befall them if they spoke to any other?"

   "It is possible that in his endeavours to ensure your safety Gordallith may have gone a little further than was strictly required."

   "I think not. I think he followed his orders to the letter."

   "For all we knew these persons might have been kidnappers, conspirators against the throne, in the pay of our
enemies. . . anything! You declined to divulge anything about them, yet insisted upon placing yourself at their mercy with only a minimal guard. I would have been remiss had I not acted to secure your welfare. As it is, the King berated me in no uncertain terms for my failure to overrule you."

   Issul glared at him, the heat rising again to her cheeks. "You know--" she began angrily, then halted. It was futile. Fectur could glide smoothly around her, ever able to cite as evidence in his favour the fact that she had been ambushed and almost killed. She should wait, then, until she had all the facts. But if she found he had acted illegally. . . .

   She could not think clearly. A scream persisted at the forefront of her thoughts:
my babies, Leth, what has happened to you?

   She held out her hand, palm up. "Gordallith took something from Ohirbe's husband's cousin, the man called Julion. I will have it, now."

   Fectur's thin brows lifted quizzically.

   "Do not push me, Fectur!"

   "Ah," said Fectur, a forefinger raised. "You must be referring to this."

   He stepped across to a cabinet behind his desk, opened a small compartment and drew forth a small white object upon a leather thong, which he passed to Issul.

   Intrigued, she turned it over in her fingers. It was ivory, as far as she could tell. A little stained and ingrained with age, no larger than the terminal phalanx of her thumb. It was beautifully, intricately carved and shaped, representing an abstract form, vaguely animal-like, but unidentifiable. "What have you learned about it?"

   "It appears to be a trinket, nothing more, of curiosity value only. We have discovered no special properties. Apparently it was given to the child whom you suspect to be the Legendary Child - given by a stranger in the woods."

   Issul studied him, suspecting more, but his face was blank. The welts upon his skin were dissipating; he seemed to have accepted the inevitable and regained his customary command of himself. She remained wary, despite her triumph. "If you know more, Fectur, tell me now, for I will find out soon enough."

   "There is nothing more."

   Issul studied the little carving a moment longer, then slipped it into a pocket in her tunic. She turned and called over her shoulder, "Shenwolf!"

   From the outer office the rangy figure of Shenwolf stepped through the door, glanced first to Issul, then stiffened to attention and bowed his head tersely to the Lord High Invigilate. Fectur observed him with narrow-eyed bemusement, shot with indignation that someone - a common trooper - should be invited into his private office without his prior permission. "Who is this?"

   "A brave and loyal soldier of the 1st Battalion of the King's Light Cavalry. His name is Shenwolf. Through his efforts - initially his efforts alone - I was saved. He will be accorded the highest honours. It is solely through his courage and heroism that I am able to stand before you now."

   Fectur's grey eyes travelled Shenwolf, taking in every detail, despising him.
Tall, lean, young, perhaps handsome in a rough and undefinable way. A firm jaw, bright, intelligent eyes, resolute and good-humoured. There was a powerful rapport between the two of them, this he detected instantly. The way Shenwolf's eyes had gone to the young Queen as he entered, the way they so plainly longed to return to her now. Were they lovers? If not, what would it take to bring them together? Fectur considered. It would be the Queen who would demur, certainly not the soldier; but she was impressed by him, this much she had already made abundantly plain.